


how sweet it is (to be loved by you)

by plutosdeath



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alcohol, Declarations Of Love, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Self-Indulgent, Sibling Bonding, Songfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, author was feeling nostalgic, but minus one, no beta we die like men, so here you go, zukka - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27626414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutosdeath/pseuds/plutosdeath
Summary: Four times Zuko plays a song for those he love and the one time he doesn't have to.
Relationships: Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Izumi & Sokka (Avatar), Izumi & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 125





	how sweet it is (to be loved by you)

**Author's Note:**

> rated teen and up for mentions of drug/alcohol usage and for mild swearing
> 
> songs that inspired this fic in order:  
> -mary jane-rick james  
> -could it be i'm falling in love-the spinners  
> -isn't she lovely-stevie wonder  
> -how sweet it is (to be loved by you)-marvin gaye  
> -unforgettable-nat king cole

**1.**

Zuko felt like he was sinking into the ground and floating in the air all at once. This wasn’t his first time getting high but this felt different. The music in the background and the sound of his own breathing is the only thing that’s keeping him grounded. Toph’s asleep on the floor, curled up near Aang’s dog, Appa. Aang and Katara are nowhere to be found and honestly, Zuko wants to keep it that way. Besides, Sokka is next to him on his couch, bathing in the scent of weed. His eyes are low and his lips are parted and luscious and _kissable_. 

_I’m in love with Mary Jane, she is my main thing._

And Sokka is Zuko’s best friend and isn’t supposed to be the apple of his eye but is anyway. 

“Zuko, don’t look at me like that.” Sokka says, but there’s no malice present in his voice. 

Zuko blushes hard and turns his face against the wall. “Sorry.”

“For what?” 

“Looking at you.”

Sokka laughs, almost hard enough to start a choking fit. “Zuko, you can look at me. But I’m high as shit and I don’t want to do anything embarrassing.” 

_Now do you think you love me, Mary Jane?_

Zuko turns back around to entertain him. He raises his eyebrow. “Like what?” The seconds waiting for Sokka’s answer felt like a dagger in his chest. 

“Let’s just say I love you too much as a friend to act on my impulse.” With that, Sokka shifts a bit closer to Zuko and rests his head on his shoulders. His breathing becomes more even and faint and eventually, he’s out like a light. Zuko’s mouth is drier than sand but he doesn’t know if his cottonmouth is from being high or Sokka’s warmth. 

The paranoia set in and while his friends slept soundly that night, Zuko didn’t catch a wink of sleep. 

**2.**

Leave it to Zuko to get disgustingly drunk and embarrass himself in front of his crush of three years. 

The last party of college is always the wildest. Zuko was never the partying type but getting nauseatingly drunk was a rite of passage and so he gave in. He doesn’t remember much about that night but the taste of vodka and Fireball on his lips and Sokka’s name bouncing around in his head like a ball. Honestly, if it weren’t for his stupid drunk texting, he probably would have forgotten the whole night altogether. However, the universe was cruel and sought out to embarrass Zuko as much as possible. The following day, he woke up to blinding sunlight, the most painful headache known to man, and a text from Sokka. 

**Sokka: Can I come over?**

Zuko’s foolish little heart sank to his feet and he felt stuck. He threw his phone down and stared at his ceiling for a while, thinking about what he possibly could have sent. It could have been a stupid meme, or maybe it was an essay long love confession. To preserve his pride and sanity, Zuko refused to look at the message, responding to Sokka with a call. 

The hours leading up to Sokka’s arrival, Zuko cleaned his apartment like a madman. After a cup of coffee and some Advil, his headache vanished, giving him the energy to complete a few assignments in advance. He even completed his final draft for his senior thesis, a project he had been putting off for weeks. As the hours turned into minutes, Zuko contemplated baking or doing more cleaning. Anything to get his mind off the charming, handsome man he _probably_ sent a love letter to the night before. While mentally digging himself into a hole, there’s a knock at the door. 

It’s loud, it’s demanding, and it’s Sokka. 

For the most part, Sokka’s demeanor is nonchalant. He’s invited inside and there no sign of anxiety or guilt in his form. He moves and talks as if nothing happened. This calms Zuko’s nerves and he finally opens his messages from last night. 

**Zuko:** [ **https://open.spotify.com/track/5i0urffBRKl09GSX2Jhdeh?si=5EAxb2tbQie0hwo67adFDQ** ](https://open.spotify.com/track/5i0urffBRKl09GSX2Jhdeh?si=5EAxb2tbQie0hwo67adFDQ)

Zuko taps the link and is immediately sent to hell. 

_Since I met you, I’ve begun to feel so strange._

It’s a song from a playlist he found that reminded him so much of Sokka. It’s so full of peace and love and other unexplainable feelings his best friend gives him. He isn’t ashamed of his love for Sokka, no. But he wasn’t ready to reveal them either and the thought of finally saying it outloud and being turned down pained him. As if on cue, Sokka perks up and turns to Zuko. 

“This is the song you sent me last night.” Frozen, all Zuko could do was nod. “Did you mean it? Please tell me you did.” Sokka’s tone was desperate, like he was searching for something dear to him. There was a lump in Zuko’s throat making it hard for him to breathe so he settled for another nod. 

Sokka kisses his hands first, then his cheeks, then his lips. His touches are subtle and gentle but they’re destroying Zuko. His heart is pounding in his head. He’s scared and nervous but he feels liberated. The lump in his throat finally goes away. Nervously, he laughs. 

_And honey, you’ll always be the only one for me. Meeting you was my destiny._

“Am I a bad kisser?” His friend jokes. The grin on his face is goofy but beautiful and Zuko thinks he deserves his own exhibit in the Louvre. 

“No,” Zuko starts, “but I’ve wanted this for so long. It feels unreal.” 

_Could it be I’m falling in love?_

“All you had to do was say the words, Zuko. That’s all I’ve been waiting for.”

Zuko smirks. “I haven’t said the words yet.” 

Another kiss lands on his lips. “Say it. Please, baby?”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Eventually Zuko gives in. For what kind of person would Zuko be to deny this beautiful soul his love? 

**3.**

See, Zuko and Azula always had problems with their appearance, specifically their hair and how much it made them look like their parents. Zuko’s hairstyle reminded him of their father’s and Azula’s of their mother. As a victim of neglect, it doesn’t help much when people constantly tell you that you resemble the person that hurt you the most. Zuko’s hair related meltdown happened a few years before but luckily, Katara was kind enough to discard his scissors and box dye and find a salon for him. Azula? Not so lucky. 

While writing his dissertation one night, Zuko receives a text from Azula. It’s a picture of a sink full of thick, raven hair. 

**Azula: Guess I don’t look like mom anymore**

Zuko immediately closes his laptop and scurries to his sister’s apartment without telling Sokka exactly where he’s going. Internally, he beats himself up for not being transparent but he knew Sokka would understand. 

When he gets to his sister’s apartment, there’s a stranger at the door. The person that opens the door doesn’t look like the most confident woman he knows. It’s a snotty, teary-eyed woman with smeared lipstick and runny mascara. 

_“Spirits.”_

  
  
  


The apartment is quiet besides the sound of Zuko cutting the rest of Azula’s hair. 

  
  
  
  


“How do you like it?” He asks, standing behind his sister in the mirror. Her face bare and a little red wiping off all that makeup but she is gorgeous still. And despite what his sister wants to hear, she does look like their mother. He keeps that to himself though. 

Azula chuckles to herself but she isn’t happy. “No one ever asked me how I felt about her leaving. She didn’t even say goodbye, Zuko.” Her wide eyes are filing to the brim with tears again. “I don’t want to look like someone that didn’t love me.”

Guilt runs rampant in his brain as he tries to come up with memories of him consoling his sister about their mother’s disappearance. There are none. 

“Azula, I’m so sor-”

  
“Zuko, no. I don’t expect that from you. We were kids.” And it clicks. The guilt hasn’t gone away but he knows who Azula is angry with. She’s angry with their father for making their mother leave and for hurting them beyond repair. He tried to make her into the woman Ursa wasn’t and almost succeeded. But most of all, he’s angry with Iroh for not taking her in the way he did Zuko. “He hurt you more than he did me but that didn’t mean I wasn’t in pain. Why did he leave me to fill her shoes?” 

Zuko is afraid to respond so he offers his hand on her shoulder instead. Azula takes a deep breath to calm herself but she is anything but. “Sometimes I feel like you’re the only person in the family that loves me.”

“Mom loved you.”

The deranged woman scoffs at his statement. “She had a funny way of showing it.” 

Lost for words, Zuko squeezes her shoulder tighter. 

  
  
  
  


Zuko is flipping through his favorite songs for background music as he helps Azula clean her apartment when he comes across a gem from their childhood. He presses play and suddenly, he hears his mother’s voice singing to him and your sister. 

Azula looks up at him from across the room. Her face is sunken and confused, her eyes begging for an answer. “Is this the song Mom used to sing?” He nods his head and she lets out a breath. A sigh, almost. 

“She loved you. I’m sorry she didn’t show it enough. She would be so proud of you, Azula.” 

_Isn’t she lovely? Life and love are the same._

For the third time that night, Azula had tears in her eyes. But alas, she was smiling and _breathing_. “Thank you. That’s all I ever wanted to hear.” 

  
  
  
  
  


_“You’d be a great parent.”_

_“Eww.”_

_Unfortunately, having a child with Sokka was the only thing on his mind for weeks after Azula’s hair incident._

**4.**

“Up here, baby.”

The faucet is running and a pump of soap is waiting for little Izumi’s hands. She takes her first steps on the stool and looks at her fathers for support. Sokka’s hand rests on her back for added comfort as she washes her hands. The look on his face is proud and the one on Zuko is, well, teary. In fact, everything Izumi does is accompanied by Zuko’s watery eyes. When she entered the world crying, he did too. When she took her first steps, he wept and when she learned to use the potty by herself, Zuko was a _mess_. 

(Sokka was a mess too but you’ll never catch him admitting it.)

Their daughter is five now and tomorrow’s her first day of school. Every milestone Izumi marks is met with a gift and for this once, Zuko and Sokka are letting her help make a celebration cake. The flavor she wanted was “unicorn” but after a lot of convincing, she settled for a white cake with lilac frosting and multicolor sprinkles. As Sokka measured the dry ingredients and preheated the oven, she joined Zuko in beating the eggs and mixing the other wet ingredients. The way her hand grabbed his over the whisk reminded him of baking with his mother and his anxieties of becoming a parent. 

The decision to start a family wasn’t easy for Zuko, especially coming from one as unstable as his own. His worst fear before Izumi was hurting her and now that she’s here, he’s afraid that the universe will find a way to separate them. So while he’s here, he relishes in every word she speaks, every step she takes, and every look she gives him and Sokka. Even the little things like baking a cake is enough to bring him to tears. But as Sokka helps Izumi frost her cake, Zuko knows that him and his husband won’t be leaving her for a while. 

“Papa?” Izumi squeaks. The happiness she exudes is contagious and Zuko finds himself smiling at the sound of her voice. “Come look.” She shows off the cake in its final form though it’s basic, it’s Izumi’s and that’s all that matters to him. 

“Oh that’s beautiful! Good job, baby.” He praises with a kiss on the cheek. 

“Dad helped me too.” 

Zuko laughs and looks up at Sokka, who’s grinning stupidly. “Oh really? Well he did alright. Now go sit down while Dad and I cut the cake.”

Izumi jumps off the stool and runs to her seat at the table, her tiny hands and little legs moving impatiently. Zuko feels a firm hand embrace his lower back and pull him a little closer. Sokka leans in. “I’ll cut the cake. You wanna go find a record to put on?” 

“Sure.”

  
  


Amongst their extensive vinyl collection, Zuko finds the perfect record for the moment. 

  
  
  


Izumi is raving about starting school and her dads are all ears. She’s a precocious little girl and Zuko can’t wait for her to blow her teachers away. He knew from his first glance at her that she was truly special. For many months before her birth, Zuko doubted his ability to be a loving father but now that his daughter, his pride and joy, is before him, he feels silly for thinking he wasn’t capable. She’s given him the ability to love in a way he wasn’t before and for that, he’s grateful. 

  
  
  
  


_With a love so sweet in so many ways, I want to stop and thank you baby._

**+1**

Zuko wakes up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and sea salt. The breeze brushes past his face lightly as he stirs under the sheets. In the background, he hears his husband whistling a tune and the collision of kitchen utensils against a pan. There’s a familiar voice besides his that finds its way to his ears but he can’t name it. The floor under his bare feet is cold and as he walks past his daughter’s room, the chill crawls up his spine. Izumi leaving the house made Zuko revert back to his old ways, temporarily. Ashamedly, he was an anxious mess, calling Izumi twice a day and nearly crying every time. Years ago, he and Sokka made a bet over who would catch empty nest syndrome first. 

Zuko took the crown for being the ‘world’s clingiest father’ by a landslide. 

Usually, the goosebumps that danced his skin when thinking of Izumi were out of fear or concern. For a very long time, everything he loved left him or didn’t love him back. But this time, Zuko was overjoyed. His daughter was _finally_ coming home and that filled him with enough happiness to last the rest of his life. When Izumi came into the world, bright-eyed and screaming, Zuko felt like someone was building him up and simultaneously tearing him apart. She was beautiful, she _is_ beautiful. And most importantly, she was his and though her first cries were precious, Zuko vowed to make sure that was the last time she cried so much. 

18 years later and he succeeded; he and Sokka gave her everything she needed and more. 

The chills on his body are replaced by a tingle. The kitchen is warm and his husband is there, plating food and whistling faintly. Zuko brings his arms around his waist and rests his head on his shoulders. 

“Zumi’s coming today.” He says with happiness thick in his voice. 

“Good morning to you too.” 

Zuko huffs and takes his plate. Sokka follows him with two cups of coffee. At the table, he recognizes the song playing in the distance. 

_Like a song of love that clings to me, how the thought of you does things to me._

He reaches across the table to find his husband’s hand. His skin is scarred from 48 years of living but beautiful, nonetheless. Zuko raises it to his lips as a form of gratitude. Sokka looks at him with a loving smile that quickly turns into a smirk. 

“What?” 

Sokka leans in, his hand still in Zuko’s. “I’m gonna tell you something but you can’t freak out. Promise?” Zuko raises his eyebrow and nods his head hesitantly. His heart drops at the sight of Sokka’s sinister look. “Izumi’s here but she wanted me to tell you beforehand so you wouldn’t yell.”

“Sokka, I swe-”

“Zumi?” Sokka booms. He turns back to Zuko with the goofiest smile. It’s the same smile he’s worn for almost three decades. Between Sokka’s smile and seeing daughter peek behind the door, his brain turns to mush. 

Izumi and Sokka make eye contact and laugh at Zuko’s unnaturally red cheeks. He lets go of Sokka’s hand and makes a grabbing gesture at his daughter. “Dad, I’m not four anymore,” she protests but she makes her way into her father’s hold. Zuko feels like crying but he holds it in for his daughter’s sake. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Hours later, Sokka and Izumi are asleep on the couch after watching too much television. Izumi is awkwardly laying on her father’s chest and Sokka’s grown into his middle-aged manhood, snoring annoyingly loud. Regardless, the sight is precious and it’s another memory Zuko keeps locked away for himself. While cleaning up the mess his husband and daughter made, he sings the song playing in the kitchen this morning. 

_That’s why darling, it’s incredible that someone so unforgettable thinks that I am unforgettable too._

The sun and moon are trading places in the sky, casting an orange glow on Zuko’s face and he feels at ease. At last, everything is complete and therefore, so is he.

**Author's Note:**

> this was written in like a day (and idk if it's any good) but i hope you enjoyed anyways! my tumblr is @plutosdeath if you wanna talk to me about anything atla/lok related!


End file.
